Complications aboard deck
by Paperspell
Summary: Maybe things could have been different if he had the sense to love her. Hans muses on the way back home.


_**Frozen**_ is a 2013 American 3-D computer-animated musical fantasy-comedy film produced by Walt Disney Animation Studios and released by Walt Disney Pictures. Copyrights belongs to them.

* * *

He's what some may consider to be a silent prisoner. The ship would occasionally rock abruptly, or jeering may occur from those who bring him food, but to all this he remains silent, for three days and two nights.

His mind, though, is a different story.

* * *

Prince Hans of the Southern Isles would have very much wanted for his plan go smoothly. It was after all, a relatively simple one and although lacking originality, was very effective when brought to action. Taking a queen's hand to ensure king hood falls under a single move.

However, this was all before he met the princess.

He had just knocked down a girl in a black dress and green straps with his horse moments ago. He knows this because shortly after his horse had stopped on what he presumed to be a small bump, there was an indignant "hey!" Already he had set himself with the image he wanted to see; it would not do if a civilian of his kingdom was hurt. That aside, he was also genuinely worried. As he climbed onto the small row boat to fetch the pretty girl, he was caught between concern and exasperation. The latter because although he had no uncertainty about his abilities, there were no room for setbacks on a day as important and fleeting as one celebrating coronation. He takes her hand, nevertheless, and upon closer inspections, sees that she has a rather kind face.

"Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles."

Introductions must be made, even briefly. But really, he had ought to be at the gates by now, looking for the would be queen-

"Princess Anna, of Arendelle," she replies.

_It's alarming how quick pieces fit, how if A → B and B → C, then A → C. Quick notes form, in no particular order: a queen with a princess to the side, adding extra dynamics that would be useful if one needed to be discarded - a safety investment. For now she shall lead him to court her sister, so-_

"Princess...?" He trails, and gets on one knee. "My lady!"

His horse, which is a bit clumsy for it's own good, mimics him, and it works to his favor. The boat they stand on tips, and he catches her from a bad fall (she is, not surprisingly, light). Before they could get a proper sentence out, his horse realize it's mistake, and the boat dips again.

Many times over, he would think about their accidental meeting and admit to how perfectly aligned it was to his plans. To have a princess fall unto his arms was more than he could ask for.

As it was, she landed on his lap, and although this was unprecedented, he can't say he didn't find it a bit pleasant (alluring?), as she laid on top of him. He feels her fingers tense around his torso, perhaps momentarily feeling his muscles, although unknowingly. She babbles a lot, but he can't bring himself to stop her:

"This is awkward. Not that you're awkward, but just because we're - I'm...I'm awkward. You're gorgeous (his lips quirks at this). Wait...what-"

He does apologize, though. For hitting the princess of Arendelle with his horse, and every moment after. He means it too, for good relations; he can't help but think she'd make for a nice sister-in-law.

"N-no, it's fine! I'm, I'm not that princess - I mean, if you'd hit my sister Elsa, it'll be _yeesh_. Ha, cause you know...Hello." She greets and tickles his horse. "But! Lucky for you, it's just me."

_If the rumors hold true that Princess Elsa was as unapproachable as the ten previous suitors made her to be, this girl can provide the leeway he was looking for, an additional support to vouch for his kind character. She is ("just you?" he inquires after her shameful modesty) in truth, a substantial piece. And she-_

is still looking at him.

The bell tolls, just when they get all straighten out, and she darts off. He smiles and waves back, but drops at once onto the waters when his horse shifted stance again, this time not to his favor. Prince Hans spit out sea water as he lifts the overturned boat, but he didn't lose sight - her dress billows at the distance, her hair ribbon dances - of such a rare opportunity.

...

(_Did she ever come to realize that she said goodbye twice?_ The ship rocks against the waves and gives no answer.)

* * *

The coronation process itself was modest. The audience was kept at a minimum, for when it became clear that there were too many royals - diplomats, advisers and trade partners of neighboring kingdoms, (and rumors had it, one sole princess with her beloved of a faraway one) - the commoners had to be scaled down to fifty. The hymn was slow and unhurried much like the administer of the crown, who chants the oath passed down for several generations. Yet something was misplaced.

Reading people was a field where Prince Hans was an expert. To be born a potential king would require this sort of intellect. He's excellent, and follows by a personal rule: if a person can't be read, they can't be manipulated. That, of course is unfavorable, and he's made sure it's never comes down to that. He goes on to do what he does best, and finds the near queen to be slightly panicked. Her posture was rigid, and her hands shook. However, her guard was up and she is ever composed as a lady should be. He does not question why, only dismisses it to be natural nerves. Instead, he focuses on what it could mean when he courts her later.

As his mind drifts off to the reception that follows, so does his eyes on Princess Anna. They acknowledge one another with a small wave.

* * *

He was not surprised when the Duke of Weselton gets turned down by the new queen for a dance. He is however, stressed as it complicates his plans knowing that the rumors are true: Queen Elsa is just as reserved as people have made her to be.

As the party continues, he had made to dance with those who offer, in order to keep appearances and an eye on the Queen while strategically thinking up alternative moves. By the end of the second dance, he's made no progress and finds the social gathering to have taken a sour turn for him. Even the champagne he drinks is flavorless.

He is surly and moody until he finds he is not the only one. Later on, he will kick himself for not realizing to keep his eye on his safety investment sooner.

In his peripheral vision, he sees the girl with the ribbon walking listlessly, a frown prominent. It was not hard for him to deduce what happened. As she walked, he strode closer. The closer he got, the plainer it was that she's not fully aware of her surroundings. As she was falling from an accidental push, he ran. He grabs her wrist and she wears a look of surprise. He hesitates, studying her for longer than he should. It must be her eyes, which in fact gave her an appearance of a innocent and fragile creature, a doe perhaps. He finds it charming.

"Glad I caught you." _Her status as princess is not entirely favorable, but-_

"Hans." She sucks in a breath.

He pulls her upright, and smoothly places his champagne on top of a tray carried by a passing butler. For tonight, he would need both hands. Promptly, they dance. If he continues to play his cards right, he'll still have some sort of foundation to build upon for months to come. After all, a dance should not be just a dance, but an invitation.

Three songs pass before they decide to idly chat by the windows. He finds she is very enthusiastic even with things that commonly holds no interest. Her hands are primary tools for expression, something he learns when she jabs him in the eye.

"I often had the whole parlor to myself to slide...Oops, sorry-"

He jerks back, grabbing his right eye, and immediately she is concerned. She apologizes profusely, but he knows how to soothe her to calm and laughs it off. She's still nervous around him, he notes. When they make their way outside to the summer night, she speaks broadly. Sometimes her sentences are too rushed, choppy. Other times they are hard to follow, and he gets a feeling she is speaking more for herself. Her train of thought is so blatantly set in her own pace, that it's no wonder it's a byproduct of her isolation.

"...Your physique helps, I'm sure." She laughs in a way that he knows she's beside herself. Something tells him to be patient and bid his time. She is much easier to talk to, and already a lot of progress has been made. The question is if he should keep her as a piece to help him get closer to the queen...or take a leap of faith with her, and - and then what?

He scarcely knows what's he thinking, and finds that they have been walking in the scenic rose garden in silence for quite sometime. To lessen the enigmatic energy and to prove he is still with her, he gives the princess a good nature shove.

She shoves him back, hard, and then she's shying away again. She's giving him more than he anticipated, but it intrigues him.

So does her hair. When he ask her about it, her eyes flicker towards the ground. He wonders if he's cross a line, worry rising because of course he shouldn't have gone for a feature such as white hair on any lady.

She surprises him by answering. "I was born with it," she near whispers, embarrassed. "Although I dreamt I was kissed by a troll." It looks like she's putting it off as a small matter, but her teal eyes illuminate, making their way back to his while she's biting her bottom lip. He realizes what she's looking for. Validation.

Now he knows he's gotten to her. Completely. He doesn't pause to change course - sod the last plan. Everything is clear and how it should be. He can once again envision the crown.

Surprising himself, he tells her, "I like it."

* * *

Much, much later on they find a secluded balcony sometime around when fireflies started to roam. As a gentleman he is keeping his distance, and they both sit as far apart as the rail would allow them to. Despite this, the intimacy is perfect. She teaches him how to eat a krumkake.

"Yeah, the whole thing! You got it."

Her jolliness is infectious, and as he tries to appease her, the pastry crumbles in his face. This thing they have, although not dignified, settles well for the prince and princess they are. It comes naturally. They laugh and Hans thinks of what a sweet laugh she has.

They catch their breath long enough for her to ask, "Okay wait, wait. So you have how many brothers?"

He draws in a deep breath. Not because it was a sore subject - although to be truthful, it does cause small dabs of bitterness - but because it makes it that much more easier to sympathize. He will not let unwanted emotions of home to rule his head. Tonight he's found a jewel; from what he gathers, Queen Elsa was not only emotionally distant with the kingdom, but her relationship with her sister was frigid at best. For this moment he will have these tidbits work for him.

"Twelve older brothers," he answers slowly. "Three of them pretended I was invisible...literally...for two years." It was not untrue, but it was best not to draw too much attention on him when it should be on her.

"That's horrible," she replies. He hardly has to work to gain her frown.

"It's what brothers do."

The lights in her eyes dim. "...And sisters. Elsa and I were really close when we were little. But then, one day she just shut me out, and I never knew why."

She's plucky, bubbly and has a kind of humor he isn't even aware existed before they met. How anyone can shut her out befuddles him. He takes her hand and leans in close.

"I would never shut you out."

The effect this sentence has is sporadic. It took less than two seconds for her to melt. Suddenly, they were much closer than he had calculated. So close, in fact, he could see every individual strand of hair making up her bangs. She seems to be doing a bit of calculating herself, gears turning in a _should I or should I not_ fashion.

"Okay, can I just say something - crazy?"

He goes in to catch the ball, by assuring her that, "I love crazy."

She gets up, abandoning all caution to the wind. "All my life has been a series of doors in my face," she admits, but there is no sadness present. She closes the balcony door, whether for emphasis or privacy, he doesn't know, but hopes for the latter. "And then...suddenly I bump into you."

It's easy, much too easy. _She's gone and given him her heart._

"I was thinking the same thing." With equal vigor she's displayed, he moves to match her pace. "Because like...I've been searching my whole life to find my own place (here, he gestures to the splendid kingdom, before turning his attention back to her, flawlessly). And maybe it's the party talking, or the chocolate fondue..." He brushes her cheek, leaving her to figure out implications of his newfound boldness.

He has indeed found his place at last.

* * *

They dance. They flirt. They even leave the castle grounds for a while.

They jump into a neighboring balcony. She runs and he gives chase on top of the castle's towers.

He indulges her and takes off his boots. Together they slide across an empty hallway in their socks. Admittedly, she was much better than him at this sort of thing. There were times she was close to falling, but that was because he continued to trip. Nothing could have prepared him for the ordeal. Yet strangely enough, it was not unpleasant. It was rather nice, he's never done something like this before-

They aren't the slightest careful in muffling their voices. They've caused so much ruckus in the hall, a guard peeked in to see the fuss, but by then they had gone.

...

(Her eyes lit up in a way it shouldn't have. _It gave him too much of an advantage._)

* * *

The stars grew brighter as they sat on the castle roof. They visit the bridge, the clock tower, the lighthouse, and the ships in the docks. They play hide and seek amongst the stable doors.

It's where they went last that gave Hans the leverage to propose. Hasty as marriage proposals went, but he had no doubt. Princess Anna was drunk off exploring the grounds beyond her reach. She has never, ever been out like this. Quite possibly this was her first and last chance to do so. Everything about tonight - her exhilaration, her desperation and even loneliness showed, flushed. She is brimming by the time they reached the waterfall overlooking the kingdom.

With the promise of life being more with each other and pain disappearing, he gets down on one knee. He has her heart. As proof, he will soon have her left hand.

"Can I say something crazy...? Will you marry me?"

_She is lovely and she is pitiful._

"Can I just say something even crazier? Yes."

...

(_It took little to no effort to synchronize with her._ His head brushes back on the wooden ship walls._ But it was all apart of the game. He would not allow himself to think otherwise - of the stirring that occurred within his chest that night._)

* * *

When they returned to the castle, hand in hand, it caused some rising eyebrows. Nobody approached or said anything, but the brief glances were hard to ignore. For Hans that was the case, but for Anna, she was neck deep in euphoria. The ball room might as well be empty with just the two of them.

"Oops! Pardon. Sorry. Can we just get around you there? Thank you." She doesn't let go of his hand. "Oh, there she is. Elsa!"

As she tugs him forward, it occurs to him, although it should have earlier, that the queen was another matter.

The queen turns to the princess. Immediately, Anna shrinks back a little and gives a bow, making for a clumsy curtsey.

"I mean...Queen...Me again." She straightens. "Um. May I present, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

_This makes the waters harder to navigate. While she lives, she is heir-_

"Your Majesty." He bows.

She gives a polite and reserved curtsey. Before Queen Elsa can get out a word, Hans already feels Anna on the brink of explosion, and readies himself.

"We would like-" she begins.

"-your blessing-" he follows smoothly.

"-of-"

Together now: "-our marriage!"

Anna is positively glowing, and for a fraction of a second, Hans too, believes this marriage would work through.

"Marriage...?" the queen asks, clearly thrown.

"Yes!" Anna sways happily.

"I'm sorry, I'm confused."

"Well," the princess explains, brushing her hands here and there, "we haven't worked out all the details ourselves. We'll need a few days to plan the ceremony. Of course we'll have soup, roast, and ice cream and then-" She goes on so fast, so jumbled that Hans could hardly follow, and he nearly misses what she asks when envisioning the wedding: "Wait, would we live here?"

Queen Elsa's "here?", fades to the background. He jumps at the chance and leaves his composure, nearly giving him away.

"Absolutely!"

"Anna-" Elsa warns.

"Oh, we can invite all twelve of your brothers to stay with us-" She grips his shirt front, and despite his problems back home, he forgets it for a little while-

"What? No, no, no, no, no." Was that a strain of panic he heard coming from the queen's mouth?

Anna continues, "Of course we have the room. I don't know. Some of them must-"

"Wait. Slow down." The queen draws herself at full height again, perhaps to make up for the lost of control. "No one's brothers are staying here. No one is getting married."

There was a small pause.

"Wait, what?"

Hans feels something other than his plans slip away. The princess struggles to recover, but the queen was already there.

"May I talk to you, please. Alone." Queen Elsa gives her sister a pointed look.

_The phase of wooing the princess was completed. But this - this was a matter entirely different. The queen provided an obstacle that must be attended._

The worry must have shown in his face. As Anna links arms with him, he is assured. She is willing to fight for him.

"No. Whatever you have to say, you - you can say to the both of us."

"Fine." The queen puts it bluntly, "you can't marry a man you just met."

"You can if it's true love."

"Anna, what do you know about true love?"

"More than you," Anna cries, "all you know is how to shut people out."

The effect is astounding. The queen's lip thins at this, and her eyes harden. But her voice crumbles. "You asked for my blessing, but my answer is no. Now, excuse me."

_This was not what he envisioned. Granted, he did not expect the queen to agree wholeheartedly, but to close the door completely would be losing a chance forever. He must keep that door opened, if just a crack, to leave him something to work with._

"Your Majesty," he begins, "if I may ease your-"

She's flustered and yet, "No, you may not. And I - I think you should go." She turns to a guard. "The party is over. Close the gates."

The queen walks away, and Anna hurries after. But all he could really think of were compiled words weaved into poetry._ Given the right speech and strong argument, he can still turn the tide. First impressions, he reasons, can be fixed. And after that...they could be removed completely when the queen has a terrible, unfortunate-_

The talk between the royal sisters are attracting attention, but not his. Anna, he realizes, is pleading, but it's far off.

_Truth to be told, he disliked the thought of dirtying his hands like this. However much he had thought and rethought this possibility, it proved to be quite distasteful. But what is the death of a queen to the rise of a king? All for the greater good. He will lead this kingdom to prosperity, whereas she, if she lived, will make no move to protect her people. Now, if things would just quiet down. If people would just shut up and allow him to think-_

"Elsa, please. Please. I can't live like this anymore."

The begging is unmistakable. Hans' eyes finally fall to the scene.

"...Then leave."

There's an unexplainable chill that settles on him. This is unfolding to be eerily similar. Briefly, the thought of his twelve brothers crops up.

"What did I ever do to you?!"

_To be last in line, least cared for-_

"Enough, Anna."

"No. Why? Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the world out? What are you so afraid of?!"

_His brothers and their silly fears. The constant power struggle._

"I said, enough!"

It happens, in absolute clarity. Jets of ice blasts out of the queen's hand, crawling on the floor and crystallizing to sharp, jagged, edges. The guests, who have previously been watching with interest, cries out in shock. Glass plates and bottles shatter as people scurry away to make light of the events. It's painfully silent.

The Duke of Weselton is the first to make sense of what has happened.

"...Sorcery. I knew there was something dubious going on here."

Hans looks on, in shock, and can only think dumbly. This definitely changes the course of his actions.

"Elsa..." Anna whispers.

But the queen just fled.

* * *

Before they can think to move, the duke and his lackeys were at the queen's heels. They sprung to action, which seemed to shake Anna, and in turn shake him out of his stupor.

As they roam the halls, various thoughts rushed through his mind.

_Why does she run? Kingdom, shock. Anna, shock. The queen's powers were hidden, then. The coronation, her worry - the gloves, she took them off, and she fear that-_

"There she is! Stop her!" The duke cries.

"Please, just stay away from me. Stay away!"

_She fears her powers. Why? She can't control it._

They reached the front doors to see the duke slip on ice. _It really is ice. The queen really-_

"Monster...monster!" The duke's yells resounds into the now brisk night. However, it did little to cover the gasp and shrieks of the crowd. Even less to draw attention to the snow falling. The queen turns heel, and out of the gate.

Anna, who was at his side, is not anymore. She runs before the duke could recover, and shouts in a new kind of desperation, "Elsa! Wait, please!"

He follows.

_Ice powers. Dangerous and lethal, yet she runs. The people will turn on her, just like the duke._

They both see her figure stop at the lake. She looks back at them, and Hans could see, she has the same look as her sister. A doe, but one who is trapped. She turns back to the lake, and having made up her mind in the spur of the moment, runs on the water - now ice.

"Elsa, stop!" Anna pleads, before she slips on ice as well.

"Anna!" He is at her side once more, and yanks her before the ice could break. They both watched the queen's retreating figure. Somewhere deep in Hans' mind, a bell sounds.

_She has doomed herself. A queen of exile has solved his problems._ But the triumph is slow to sink in.

_She really has ice powers-_

"No." Anna whispers, disbelievingly. Her sister has scrambled into the mountains.

He should have know victory was not so easy at hand; she has left them with a parting gift. The ice bridge that Queen Elsa had made quickly expands, until the whole lake is engulfed by several layers of thick ice.

"Look...The fjord," he mutters.

The ships remains locked in place, and he realizes things are not as simple as they were before.

* * *

The snow continues to fall, blanketing the castle courtyard.

"Snow? It's...snow...in July." The constant murmurs of commoners begin.

Hans reached for Anna, who by now seemed dazed. Fortunately, he has recovered from the shock, and now his mind is whirling, deciding what to make of this whole affair.

"...Are you alright?"

"No."

"Did you know?"

The hurt in her eyes confirmed it more than anything.

"No."

_The fjord and the rest of the kingdom is encrusted with frost. But the Queen is long gone._

"Look! It's snowing! It's snowing!" The duke whipped around wildly, his toupee flapping. "The Queen has cursed this land! She must be stopped!" He grabs his soldiers by the collars. "You have to go after her!"

_Cursed...and if what is said is true, he'll have to rule over an icy wasteland._

Anna brushes past him and towards the duke. "Wait, no!"

The duke twirls back around, and in a moment of sheer terror, dives behind his men. He points one sole accusing finger. "You! Is the sorcery in you too? Are you a monster too?"

"No. No. I'm completely ordinary." A hint of fear is evident in her voice.

"That's right, she is..." Hans snaps. His annoyance recedes when he realized how it sounded. "...in the best possible way."

Anna turns back to the duke.

"And my sister is not a monster."

It seemed to coax the duke out of hiding, for he quips, "She nearly killed me."

Hans' patience for the duke was wearing thin.

"You slipped on ice."

"Her ice!"

Before the conversation could get out of hand, Anna placed herself firmly between the two. In a voice of determination Hans never heard, she throws in her worth.

"It was an accident. She was scared. She didn't mean it - she didn't mean any of this...Tonight was my fault." She raises her head, resolve made. "I pushed her. So I'm the one that needs to go after her."

It was absurd and unthinkable, but all the duke said was, "Yes. Fine. Do."

"What?" Hans blurts.

_Two rulers, gone. But then-_

"Bring me my horse, please."

"Anna, no." He goes to grab for her, but she weaves through the crowd, out of his reach. "It's too dangerous."

She climbs up her horse, and barely spares him a glance.

"Elsa's not dangerous. I'll bring her back, and I'll make this right."

As she dons her cloak, the full realization of her absence dawns._ It could mean but one thing: this icy kingdom was his. But he would not allow it. Better off if they both go, to ensure that Queen Elsa was captured to undo what she has created, than to wait here, as his kingdom freezes over._

"I'm coming with you."

"No," she says, and in this voice that, although far from velvet, enchants him. He blinks at this, her sense of command. "I need you to take care of Arendelle."

He should have protested, or better yet, took her off her horse. Instead he complies.

"...On my honor."

"I leave Prince Hans in charge!" As she sets to go, he stops her again.

"Are you sure you can trust her? I don't want you getting hurt."

_On the chance that she does manage to return with the queen, she is still his safety investment for what he soon hopes, a recovered kingdom._

"She's my sister - she would never hurt me."

At these words, she snaps the reins and rides off. Hans watches her retreating form.

* * *

Several days have passed, and the frost refuses to melt. The villagers have gotten restless, and do not know if barks are drier facing up or down. It hardly matters, as most of the lumber they find are already iced over. With the unpredictable snow covering up the summer, there was hardly time to prepare for this rapid change in climate. The days became filled with fevers, frostbites, and no sign of the kingdom's previous rulers.

Arendelle, in short, is facing a crisis.

Hans and many of the castle guards are spread thin. "Cloak," he shouts. "Does anyone need a cloak?"

An old woman shuffles over to him, and pats him by the hand.

"Arendelle is indebted to you, Your Highness."

She refers to his send out of various castle doctors, organized parties to find wood, and control over the livestock.

"The castle is open," he informs her. "There is soup and hot glögg in the Great Hall." He turns to another guard and tells him to pass out the rest of the cloaks.

He shall be good to these people.

However the impending thought crosses his mind yet again. There would be nothing to rule over in a matter of days. His mood is further dragged by the approach of the duke.

"Prince Hans, are we expected to sit here and freeze while you give away all of Arendelle's tradeable goods?"

_His brothers, all twelve who are foolish enough to ally themselves with such a country as Weselton. He thinks about the contracts and agreements, all that eventually led to the Southern Isles being exploited. And how, he doesn't understand, how could he hope to understand what his brothers clearly did-_

"Princess Anna has given her orders and-"

"And that's another thing!" The duke looked crazed. "Has it dawned on you that your princess may be conspiring with a wicked sorceress to destroy us all?"

The great need to put the duke at his place surfaced again. It was not so much as the thought of Anna plotting behind him than the duke questioning his ability to lead.

_This kingdom will be one worth more than his home. Years of neglect shall not hinder him._

"Do not question the princess. She has left me in charge, and I will not hesitate to protect Arendelle from treason."

Maybe the duke remembers his involvement with the Southern Isles. Or maybe he is thinking back to when, tricking the king and his eleven advisors, he had dismissed the youngest male's protest, as did his brothers, of the potential treason that would occur.

Either way, he notices the dangerous threat laced in the Prince's words.

The thumping of hooves broken them apart. Princess Anna's horse has returned, but with no rider. It bucks wildly and kicks, until Hans was able to soothe it to peace. Hushed whispered aroused, concerning _where is Princess Anna? What happened to her?_

Hans eyes drifted off to the mountains, and to the faces of the kingdom. He strokes the horse again. He feels no loss for it's owner.

"...Princess Anna is in trouble." He looks at the crowd and captures their attention. "I need volunteers to go with me to find her!"

Instantly volunteers, some from Arendelle, others who were marooned, came forth. Two men of Weselton was added to the collection on the insistence of the duke. As Hans mounted his horse, he could still hear the distinct mutterings. He knows to trust not men of Weselton. With only one purpose, he leads his men to the North Mountain.

...

(_Perhaps their premature relationship could have developed, but no. It was better for it to have been cut short than to have ever truly known her at all. A kingdom with just a king suits him well enough. _

A king with eleven advisors shall judge him once he gets home-

_He didn't know whether she's dead or alive, but her disappearance had provide for a good excuse._)

* * *

To sell nothing short, an ice palace was found on the North Mountain. The ice shine with what little sun was left. Splendid as all fortresses go, and hushed silent.

He turns to his small army.

"We are here to find Princess Anna. Be on guard, but no harm is to come to the Queen. Do you understand?"

The last thing needed was the death of the woman who could reverse the spell.

It later occurs to him when he dismounted his horse, years of training with knights fall short when actually faced with a snow monster. A snow guard, no doubt created to protect the castle, only assured him more about the queen; she wants not to hurt but be left to her isolation. Ideally, she is harmless.

He deftly dodges the snow creature's blow. His men were not as quick. Throughout the rampage, in which he barrel-rolls and secures his sword, he sees the queen peeking out her front doors. He is not the only one. The two from Weselton, utilizes the snow monster's attention on him skillfully, and bounds after Queen Elsa. The door closes behind them.

_If she is killed now, Arendelle will die with her._

He rolls away again from another blow. With a slice of a sword that could only be explained by years of training (to which the younger half of his brothers sneered at, the older half turned blind to), he was able to hack away the creature's leg. It wobbles, near falling over the cliff, but not before it dealt it's final blow on him as he runs up the iced stairway.

It's icy claws envelops him for a short while until the creature gave away entirely. He's about to fall with it until he had the sense to reach for the railing. He dangles, and for a short while fears for his life.

_A sense of dread, knowing it's a one way trip and a very hard fall. The kingdom. His brothers. Odd enough, a girl with a streak of white hair-_

His men hoist him up. With no room to think, what's left of his mind concentrates on the men of Weselton. As they run up to the front doors, they hear the continuous shattering of ice. They bound, non-stop to the top floor, and destruction meets their eyes: two men, one who has ice spears near jabbing his neck, the other being pushed by a ice wall to the edge of the balcony, above the cliff. In the center of it all Queen Elsa, fearful, desperate and murderous. Although he had no relations to the two men, he must prevent their near deaths for the sake of the crown.

"Queen Elsa! Don't be the monster they fear you to be!"

He's tremendously relieved that she could still be reasoned with. She stops her doings and looks up at him, recognition dawning on her face.

By now he has half forgotten that Anna could very well be dead - she is nowhere to be found in this palace, and he has already discarded her. But at that moment he allows himself to think, out of some freudian slip, that Queen Elsa is sure to bless their marriage after he saves her.

He approached her cautiously, hands up half in surrender and half reaching her. Just when he thinks a breather is allowed, and the goose chase is over, he sees it's not.

With the queen distracted, the Weselton guard who was pinned to the wall raises his crossbow-

He swears in his mind. _He needs her to die later, not now. The fool had the gall to-_

What happens next could only be a mistake on his part. In his frantic reach to stop the guard, he attempts to aim the crossbow in any direction - just not the queen, the ice palace be damned - and finds he's made it much worse.

The arrow suffers a misfire and hits the ice chandelier. The one hanging right above the queen.

It falls. She runs. As it shatters, the blast sends tiny fractals of ice soaring across the room. It rings out like gunfire.

...

(_It played out better for him than he could have hoped for. The queen was much easier to carry unconscious. But how absurd, as he's saved a life only to murder it afterwards._ The shackles still bind him tightly. _Oh, how his brothers would punish him._)

* * *

When they bring the Queen back to Arendelle, they were quick to confine her. As Hans gives her over to the castle guards and the staff in general (reluctantly, for appearances) they reveal to him of the room they had specially made especially for the young queen if things got out of control.

Under the previous king and queen's orders.

He chews the underside of his tongue, when night falls and the snow storm grows worse. By now the ships are severely locked in place, livestock is low, and no food can be imported. Unconscious or not, he must see to Queen Elsa.

As he enters the cell, he's grateful for her alertness, as it makes it easier for him. She has assessed the damage, and therefore should know why he's come.

"Why did you bring me here?" she cries, struggling.

"I couldn't just let them kill you."

And he can't. But her moment will come.

"But I'm a danger to Arendelle," she breathes shallowly, "get Anna."

It puzzles him, their relationship.

"Anna has not returned..." he replies slowly. He waits for the knowledge to sink in. For if she is weak, she shall do his bidding. The wind howls, and brings him to his next point. "If you would just stop the winter, bring back summer...please."

She answers almost immediately, but it wasn't what he was hoping for.

"Don't you see...I can't." She wants to weep, but can't draw a tear. The shackles ring ominously. "You have to tell them to let me go."

_His late father, his twelve brothers would never let him go. Not on his mistakes or shortcomings. But he's shown them - he's rid himself of the cursed Isles._

As he walks towards the door, torch with him, the brief sinking feeling of the truth in her words has passed.

"I will do what I can."

He leaves her, and forms one solid objective: The time is now. The queen must die.

* * *

At the very least, not finding Anna dead has given him his safety investment back. True, he does not know where she is, but there is a good chance of her still being alive.

_Get Anna_, the queen had said.

_So they had happened to meet, the queen is under the impression the princess is still alive. The snow guard - it was created to protect, therefore she's had a visitor before him - Anna. Although quite deadly, the creature did not kill the princess._

_"She's my sister - she would never hurt me."_

_So, then where-_

He is pacing the castle library, looked on upon by the dignitaries and guards. How frustrating this has gotten to be! He is damned both ways - if he leaves the queen to be, she might be able to reverse the curse, but by the looks of it, when Arendelle is long gone. If he kills her, he is taking a gamble, as crowning him as king by the death of a queen is highly suspicious. He needs a reason, an angle to play at-

"I'm going back out to look for Princess Anna."

_If luck would have it, he still fully intends to marry her._

"You can not risk going out there again," stated a french dignitary.

"If anything happens to her-" _He would lose a favorable piece in solidifying his place as king. It was one thing to kill the queen, but perhaps marrying the princess, although not wholly necessary can appease and smooth out any suspicion. _

"If anything happens to the princess, you are all Arendelle has left," reasoned another.

_And it would be fine. Yes...yes. It would work. This crisis, everything, is set up to force his hand. Yes, it would be better if she was dead-_

The door of the library swings open. Hans turns and blinks. He discovers she is not dead. Her hair was something else, and she's shivering like never before. So fragile, like ice.

Anna.

"He's in here. Prince Hans." A butler steadied Anna forth to him, and Hans meets her halfway.

"Anna." He lifts her up. "You're so cold."

"Hans," she whispers, groping him so that his head dips and nearly meets hers. "You have to kiss me."

_This-_

"What?"

"Now. Here we go." But she is too weak, and her lips brush against his neck.

The maids, having started a fire and removed Anna's wet things, sees that Hans could handle what's next. Though slightly bemused, they offer them this rare time to rejoice, until matters are brought back to attention again.

"We'll give you two some privacy."

They are true to their words, and exit promptly.

But Hans thinks of this situation differently.

"What happened out there?" he asked. She is cold, cold, cold.

"Elsa struck me with her powers."

"You said she'd never hurt you."

"I was wrong." She exhales wispy, short breathes, and stumbles. Hans steadies her, and carries her to a nearby couch. He puts her down ever gently, more than required. He would later come to terms that perhaps there was a sense of-

"Anna." _Why does he speak her name like that? It's comes out weak, somewhat yearning- _

"She froze my heart, and only an act of true love can save me."

"A true love's kiss." He understands too quickly.

_More quickly than any of his brothers of the situation._

He cups her chin. She was so incredibly trusting, to have made herself so vulnerable, so like a prey. It hardly seems fair, but he was taught to win.

_Perhaps that's how it's always been as number thirteen._

She, who has given her heart to him. How could he possibly match that? He knows at once the kiss would not save her, and thinks, fleetingly, if only it could. But then - then what?

His brothers come to mind, and this kingdom at tow. To choose Anna, or the kingdom? He knows which to discard.

Their lips barely meet.

"_Oh Anna,_" he whispers (she will never know how much he means this), "If only there was someone out there who loved you."

"What?"

Her doe eyes open, and he thinks of how he would be the last thing she sees. Frankly, she was so disappointing. He gets up and makes for the windows. As he closes the curtains, he senses her mind putting two and two together, but dreading the results.

"...You," she splutters, "you said you did."

"As thirteenth in line in my own kingdom, I didn't stand a chance.

_Will neither stand a chance nor amount to anything, his father had seethed, before he-_

I knew I had to marry into the throne somewhere-"

"What are you talking about?" she cries out desperately.

What goes on in their funny little heads? Why can't anyone ever keep up with him?

"As heir, Elsa was preferable, of course (here, he snuffs a candlelight out). But no one was getting anywhere with her. But you-"

_Her sun kissed face, her cherry demeanor. _

"Hans?" Her voice was painfully soft.

"You were so desperate for love, you were willing to marry me, _just like that_. I figured, after we married, I'd have to stage a little accident for Elsa." He's almost sorry, but it doesn't stop him from carrying a pitcher of water, and slowly dousing the flames in the fireplace. There went the last of her life line.

"Hans." She gets up, but how could she hope to stop him? She falls like a deck of cards. "No, stop."

"But then she doomed herself, and you were dumb enough to go after her."

_What a silly, silly girl. _And yet anger swells deep inside, and he can't understand why. Instead, he chuckles, but there is no humor behind it. Only a displaced feeling that nears pity.

"All that's left now...is to kill Elsa, and bring back summer." At last, things move accordingly and he is content. The death of two heirs will be a small price to pay.

As he kneels to her fallen form, she looks up, and he blinks once more at the fight in her eyes. Lights of a dead girl.

"You are no match for Elsa," she spits.

It sends something down his spine, but really, he knows it's an empty threat. He likes it though, a girl who goes down fighting.

Which is why he breaks her: "No," he said, dead calm. He takes her chin again, but when it appears she is adamant, he roughly hoist her to face him. "You're no match for Elsa. I, on the other hand, am the hero who is going to save Arendelle from destruction."

He strides towards the doors.

"You won't get away with this."

It was a pathetic attempt to capture his attention, to remain defiant. It was very poor, very poor indeed. She held an interest, perhaps once in his heart, but it never stayed. And why? Because she was weak and predictable and easy. Much, much too easy, that was rather disappointing. Quite honestly, if she put in more effort so that he could loved her, and maybe save her-

And all at once, he's angry that she wasn't important enough to make him stay.

"Oh, I already have." he says, quite happily.

_What a pity_, he thinks, as the door shuts on her.

* * *

He could hear the duke's speech from down several doors. The first thing he must keep in mind when he's Arendelle's king is to sever all trading ties with Weselton.

"It's getting colder by the minute. If we don't do something soon, we'll all freeze to death."

As he walks into the council chamber, all eyes fall on him, but more specifically, his distraught face.

"Prince Hans-" the Spanish dignitary begins.

"Princess Anna...is dead."

"What...? No...Mon dieu." Various dignitaries voiced. Some of the chamber maids gave a dishearten cry, and worse yet were the servants who personally raised her.

He can't bring himself to emphasize with their pain, but he pretends to. He stumbles until they bring forth a chair for him.

"What happened?" inquired the duke.

_The angle he's been looking for._

"She was killed by Queen Elsa."

"_Her own sister_." The duke, clearly repulsed, sways the others with one sentence.

Hans, weary as he can make himself to be, tearfully states (because this bit is still crucial), "At least we got to say our marriage vows...before she died in my arms."

He knows he's laid it on too thick, but at that moment the entire room was his. He hangs his head low at his supposed grief.

"There can be no doubt now," said the duke, drawing himself at full height, which was not at the very least, impressive. "Queen Elsa is a monster and we are all in grave danger."

"Prince Hans, Arendelle looks to you."

The dignitaries all face him. The chamber maids and butlers, tears beginning to stream down their faces, follow suit.

_The public eye will never question his process of becoming king._

"With a heavy heart, I charge Queen Elsa of Arendelle with treason, and sentence her to death."

* * *

He was in no hurry to kill the queen. With the cards at his hand, he strode, a bit too leisurely to the dungeons where she was being locked up in. The guards, though aware of his presence, focus entirely on the door.

"She dangerous," one commanded to the other. "Move quickly and with more resolve."

Hans narrows his eyes as the door freezes over. _No- _

Tremors hit and the ground shakes. As he rushes up to the cell, the door being wrung opened at last, he finds only a hole in the wall, edges iced over. The cell begins to pile up with the blizzard from outside.

* * *

He goes after her himself. He sends the guards to frantically search the other direction, towards the village. But he knows better, because where there is snow is where she will go. The North Mountain is the perfect location for her still. He heads towards the fjord.

The blizzard whips his cloak around, but he knows he's near. There is no question of the shadow that paces in front of him, and the snowfall is so intense that even the girlish figure he sees is thrown around.

_This winter shall end._

She senses him, and back away.

"Elsa! You can't run from this!"

"Just - take care of my sister." She holds out her hands in defeat and edges away further.

His jaw clenched and unclenched. _How can they stand to be so close, it disgusts him-_

"Your sister? She returned from the mountain weak and cold. She said you froze her heart."

_This relationship they have. It confuses him so he will break it._

"What? No." The snow intensifies alarmingly.

"I tried to save her, but it was too late. Her skin was ice. Her hair turned white..."

The queen's eye widen. Her color was like sapphire.

_He thinks back to her eagerness, her red hair and petite figure. If only she was worth more to him._

"Your sister is dead...because of you."

The snow queen drops to her knees without notice. A small grunt escapes her lips and no more, like she was pierced. But his sword has yet to enter her. The blizzard itself stops. Entirely. It does not howl, for it is silent. The snowflakes hang suspended in air.

The queen is broken.

Now is his moment, while she is completely vulnerable.

"You know what I must do, Queen Elsa. The storm has gone for too long. I must put an end to this winter."

There is no reply. He thinks back to how her sister was more of a challenge, when it came down to it. But as she lays motionless, and as all the eyes of Arendelle fall on him, his thinks about how he's never killed before, has never taken a life with force. The sword which he had swung with ease against the snow monster is weighing more than it should now.

_There's been treason in the Isles and there's been a skirmish. His brothers turn to him. In the end, can he really not pull through? Such a waste, as expected._

He tightens his grip on the hilt. He shall kill his first.

He raises the sword above his head and-

Hesitates. For a second, then two.

It was only when something enters his peripheral vision that he instinctively makes a move to strike.

A ringing cry. A dead girl looks at him as his sword smashes in her icy palms. She is the last thing he sees when a force blows him backwards, knocking him out.

* * *

He awakens, and the first thing he notices is the tropic climate. His hands gripped the ship, only to find it dry as he struggles to get up. Still somewhat dizzy, he sees a man he is unfamiliar with, tense on his movements.

_Who?_

A girl jumps in back to view. He can't make sense of it. His mind pulls a blank.

"Anna?" When nothing he could think of forms adequately in his mind, he manages to throw out, "But she froze her heart."

She looks at him, coldly. He wants to grab her. Whether to strike or to kiss-

"The only frozen heart around here is yours."

His feet stay planted. Before he could make to move, she punches him, square in the jaw, the kind that makes him go over the ship and into the waters.

* * *

The trial lasted on the whole of twelve hours. Although they had no proof of his manipulative mind prior to his journey to the queen's ice palace, the princess stood up to offer her words of what happened between them in the castle library. The dignitaries were witnesses to him stating the princess was dead, although that was not the case. That itself proved enough for treason, and it did not take long for the jury to piece his motivations to killing the queen.

He was found guilty. Stunned, he could only process that this could mean certain death for him, and if not, life imprisonment in Arendelle. The sentence, however, was much worse.

Queen Elsa spoke in a voice of command: "Let him be shipped back to the Southern Isles, where his brothers arrange what is fit for him."

_He should have killed her. But in his heart he knew he couldn't have. His brothers often jeered of how spineless he was-_

Two short days have passed as he stayed in prison, as the queen resumes and test out her powers. Trades must be put in order, the welfare of the people need tending and agreements and contracts of the right sort signed. He hears the triumph of men when the ship are finally ready to sail.

The next morning, he is man handled by dignitaries as they pushed him back to his ship.

"I will return this scoundrel to his country," said the French dignitary. "We shall see what his twelve big brothers think of his behavior."

Off to the distance, he could hear the distraught voice of the Duke of Weselton as it has been confirmed that no business shall be continued with the country.

* * *

The boat rocks still on the third day. He estimates that they are nearly home, but to that he suppressed a shudder. It mostly comprised of anger, but there is still the small fear of the punishment soon bestowed on him.

He would have much rather have been given imprisonment in Arendelle.

Arendelle, which hosts a queen and a princess. _The Princess, whose name is Anna-_

The stray bucket keeps hitting his boots as the ship rocks.

_Whose eyes were teal, who loved everything hastily but unconditionally. She gave him her heart. A naive but pure creature_.

The dance, her dress and everything else comes flickering to mind. When she was herself she was warm. But what stuck most was her fire, when she spoke without wavering.

_"I leave Hans in charge."_

___How fitting their meeting and departure ends on the docks_. What if they had rule together. What if, what if, what if…

It goes on and on for so long. He shifts in discomfort, his feet bound as well. His hands brushes against his jaw absentmindedly, right where she inflicted the bruise.

_If only he had the sense to love her-_

"Stop," he moans. The men aboard think that he's gone off the edge. In some ways, he has.

He unhinged her, certainly. But was it his mistake to assume she didn't do the same for him? The magic she's cast was slow to work into his bones. And now that it has...

He thought of his brothers and the crown, of always being last.

He thinks of Anna.

As it was, along with everything else, he was always a bit too late.

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
